Poems Finally Written Up From Workshop Yonks Ago

This was some free writing from the we are three workshop I ran using three borrowed lines, I think I have excised them but will dig them out to check. Wrote solidly for five or so minutes using all the lines. I have been as ever scribbling away but editing has felt like moving through treacle and I have been doing my head in the sand thinking everything I write is awful routine so here is an unsteady draft of a workshop shop poem that has been hiding half typed for over a month on my computer. The thing I have realised is to keep going, keep scribbling even if it feels like nothing at all (mostly I have been journaling/diary writing for no one’s consumption) and then you will be able to get back into to the poetry and the editing. I will be sharing this tonight at Shaken stories and verse and feedback is welcome. https://www.facebook.com/events/638174216221380/?source=1 there is the event come share what you are working on for the last time this year.

P.S have just found another scrap of writing from this workshop will add it after the first poem in this post.

Grasp the fire of life in grass,

palpable warmth of photosynthesis

I promise you cannot feel alive

when all your feet know is concrete

even toes that are bent by ridiculous shoes,

can show you  the way the sea meets the shore

sand reminds my feet how to bend

they are more useful there than pavements

Nothing is left to dig in tarmac and little to make trouble

Wrappers, life scraps and fox leaves ground to powder

in this too hot September, now an awareness

a sense of the weather spiralling,

and the city is challenging you to breathe filthy air

tell your lungs they have always felt this

the constriction deep in your chest

is your own created tension

not your body telling you you want out

dizzied by the sky scrapers after five years

cannot believe you live in a place

where so much shifting goes on in the sky line.


2nd Poem:


Palming the spindrift

pocketing the feeling for later

when I am saturated with rain

miserable in this other water

acidic nature of city rain unwelcome

the spindrift with its salt and whirling

becomes something other  delighted in

you cannot pocket the spray

you only lick your palm later

there is this lashing of waves

and the sound of gull and shrieks

of outdoor laughter unrestrained.

Lungfuls of the seaweed you will take home

you feel with a proper course of treatment

you might become a puddle- splasher

a head-back tongue out lover of the rain

you would not need to go to the shadows.


About Quad

The Stirred quad is formed of Rebecca Audra Smith, Anna Percy, Jasmine Chatfield and Lenni Sanders.
This entry was posted in Rants, Scrawls, Workshop Poems. Bookmark the permalink.

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